Shreds
by Dooba
Summary: Torn outtakes and extras that won't make their way into the main story.
1. The end, or the beginning

**A/N I don't own Twilight**

_Welcome to Shreds, little bits of Torn that will not make the story for various reasons. Thanks to Sherry, Deb and Hev99 for their wonderful feedback and support.  
><em>

_As Torn is one year old today, I want to take you back to where it all began..._

* * *

><p><strong>The end (the beginning)<strong>

_September 12th. _

Something's in the air. I can feel it in my guts. And my gut feeling is never wrong.

He's drunk again. Beer was replaced by vodka a few hours ago.

I move quietly, so quietly the only thing I can hear is my own heartbeat.

I hope he passes out soon. Sleeps on the couch so I can go to bed and forget this day.

Chances are slim, I know.

My shoulder smarts. He kicked me when I was on my knees, cleaning the floor of the bathroom where he vomited his guts out. I have to put ice on it, but then he'll notice that I hurt and I won't give him that satisfaction.

It'll heal. It always heals.

Something's in the air. It's in his eyes, the way he follows my every movement without even moving the rest of his face. I hate him, hate him so much.

The only thing I can do is be calmer, quieter still. Finish my work as quickly as possible and hide out in my room until he's too drunk to stay awake.

It's all a matter of time. It's all a matter of determination. Who can hold their breath the longest.

I'm not sure I can win it tonight. He has vomited, which means his stomach is now empty, but it also means that a lot of liquor has left his system. It will take longer for him to pass out.

If my gut feeling is correct, I won't be having the last word tonight. I won't win.

But I can't upset him. Can't set him off.

I move slowly to prevent making any sound. Wipe the counter one last time, rinse the glass I used to take a sip of water.

It's a matter of time.

Peeking into the living room, I see his eyes are closed. Light from the TV flickers on his face. His mouth is open, he's snoring softly.

He's asleep.

Quickly, quietly, I tiptoe past him and make my way up the stairs, skipping the fourth step because it squeaks.

I tuck a strand of filthy hair behind my ear. He won't let me shower. He told me I'll have to ask for it. The skin of my head itches with unwashed hair, but I'll be damned if I speak up to ask for a shower. I don't dare to take one without his permission. I don't want to face those consequences.

Slipping into my bed fully clothed, I don't care anymore. It's all my fault; somewhere along the line I did something wrong and this is how I pay for it. That, and the countless other offences I can't possibly prevent. But every time I vow I will do better, try harder.

Make sure that next time, he won't find a reason to hurt me.

Shards of sound drift up to my room. I should have turned the volume of the TV down when I went up. Then again, it might have woken him and I didn't want to risk that.

Turning to my other side, I lie with my eyes open in the darkness and wait for sleep to take me.

It doesn't come. Of course it doesn't. It rarely does.

My breath hitches when I think I hear something. What was that? I see solely darkness and the silence rings in my ears, disturbed only by my wildly beating heart.

Nothing.

Was I mistaken?

I rarely am.

I listen, but hear nothing. Perhaps I was wrong. It can happen. I fuck up all the time, in the end.

My eyes go wider and I freeze up completely when suddenly the room gets lighter, slowly. My door is opening. Breath hitching, I turn to see Stefan standing in the doorway.

"You think you're the only one who can be quiet?" he asks slowly, lowly, happy to have surprised me it seems. He comes to me with deliberate, heavy steps, cornering me like he likes to do, knowing there's no way out for me.

I'm panting now, seeing him advance.

My gut feeling was right. He's drunk enough to be violent, yet sober enough to be so very strong and calculating still. The most dangerous combination.

The bed dips as he sits down on it, and I fight against gravity to not roll toward him. He lies in bed with me and rolls on top of me in one movement, taking my breath away with his weight.

I don't dare to shut down. There's something gleaming in his eyes I don't trust. There's more to it tonight than his pleasure in my pain.

Still, I do my best to ignore him, even though under his touch I can feel the bruises bloom.

He becomes angry when I don't react to his actions. I look away until he grabs my jaw in a painful grip and makes me look at him.

"You're so stoic, it's time I really break your spirit."

Oh, shit.

His hands tear at my clothes and I hear fabric rip, but he wrestles them from me until I am naked and vulnerable. I struggle to ignore the flaring pain, struggle to ignore his stale breath that reeks of liquor and the remnants of his sour vomit.

Please, let this be over soon, please.

When he's done, I'm almost relieved, hoping that he will leave and let me sleep. But he's not done. It's not over. A hand crosses my face with such force my neck cracks.

He's livid, rambling about my silence. Finally, he sits up on his knees and his hands close around my throat. "Let's see if you can make a sound…"

Air is taken from me and suddenly I can no longer breathe. I meet his eyes and I know my fear, for once, is really showing. He grins wickedly and tightens his grip.

I'm choking. I can't breathe in, I can't breathe out. His weight is heavy on top of me and as my lungs begin to burn, black spots start to appear before my eyes.

It can't end like this. However often I have wanted my life to be over, it can't happen like this.

I struggle, bringing my hands up and clawing at his face, his wrists, to let him relieve his grip.

"Just ask for it," he says, his voice sickeningly sweet and not even strained from the force he is using. "You only have to ask…"

In a last desperate attempt, I bring my leg up as hard as I can. In his confidence that I will never fight back, he has knelt over one of my legs, giving me this opportunity I cannot ignore.

My knee hits his groin with unexpected force and he exhales in a heavy groan. His hands leave my neck to cup his crotch and I heave, gasping for air, coughing, still feeling like I'm suffocating.

Out, I need out.

He's not paying attention so in the one second I have, I scramble back from underneath him and my foot hits his groin again, making him double over in pain as he slurs out a string of profanities.

I flee. Throwing on pants and a sweater, I grab my shoes and my backpack without knowing what's in it, and I run, followed by his curses and his stumbling steps.

"Don't you run from me! You'll always end up here and there will be hell to pay for you. Isabella, think twice before you turn your back on me!"

I'm out on the street already, pulling the door closed behind me so hard the glass shatters. I run, on bare feet, until I am three blocks further. Only then do I stop to put on my shoes. My feet are already bleeding, the blood streaming away in the heavy rain.

I am too shocked to cry, I think. The thick raindrops soak me in minutes and are a nice substitute for all the tears I have held back in my life.

I still can't breathe properly. My throat hurts so badly, I can't even touch it.

I can't think yet about what I have done. Will perhaps never think about it. I fought back. I did the one thing I was always taught not to do. I hurt him.

If I have to go back, I will not survive. But right now, I live.

In the distance, a church clock strikes twelve.

With a new determination, I set course to the only person I know I have a chance will help me.

Renée.


	2. Edward's pov of chapter 39

**A/N I don't own Twilight**

_Thanks to Sherry, Deb and Bob. _

_Lots of you have asked for Edward's pov of the Mike-scene in chapter 39. Enjoy :)_**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Edward<strong>

She's quiet today. Has been since yesterday.

Before we walk into the school building I ask Alice with my gaze if she knows what's going on, but she shrugs. She doesn't know.

That rat Michael was on to Bella all week. I warned him off, politely and not-so-politely. Then prevented him from getting to her because her face got ashen when he approached during lunch yesterday.

Stupid mongrel. I don't know what he wants. He either is completely oblivious or has some kind of Superman-syndrome. Must be the latter. I heard him talking to Eric the other day about Bella. About how the shyest are the loudest in the end. He didn't mention her name. But he said that once you gain their trust, they'll do everything for you.

Maybe it's a good thing I have some self-control. I don't think he would be having his front teeth still if I hadn't. But I didn't know for sure if he was talking about Bella. There was nothing I could do.

Today starts like all the other Fridays in school. Everyone is looking forward to the weekend. I found some cool websites about music theory I'd love to read entirely. God I love the internet.

But it will have to wait, and I actually nod off in second period. Tyler, who's sitting next to me, elbows me in the ribs to wake me up.

"Thanks, man."

He grins. "I happen to know for sure you don't have a girlfriend, but you often look so worn out that I wonder what you do at nights."

"I just can't sleep," I reply, smiling at his observation.

"Right," he says, drawing out the word. "Sure."

"Oh shut up," I laugh, interrupted by the teacher who asks us to be silent.

Chastised, but awake, I sit through the end of the lesson. As soon as the bell rings I'm gone, not so much because I am eager to leave the classroom, but because I am eager to use the restroom. Once I'm done, I make my way to the hallway where my siblings are spending their break.

Bella isn't here. Strange, usually she's one of the first, walking with Rosalie or Alice.

"Have you seen Bella?" I ask Rose.

"Nope. She asked me kindly to not come pick her up anymore after every class so I let her be."

"But Rose…" I start, but she interrupts me.

"She's a big girl. If she wants to be left alone, I leave her alone. How can we teach her to trust us if we don't even listen to her requests?

"There is logic in that," Emmett agrees quietly.

"I know that," she retorts, but she smiles at him. She always has a smile for him.

We talk for a few moments more, but there still is no Bella. Where is she?

"Hey Edward," Alice starts, "If you need— Oh God no." She interrupts herself as her gaze shifts to something she sees over my shoulder and her face goes pale.

Without a word, she's off immediately, pushing past me with big steps. I look into the direction she walked and only see Mike Newton opening a classroom door at the far end of the hall.

"Edward!" Alice calls, her voice tight in panic.

I start walking immediately, my long legs catching up with my short sister easily. Before me, I see how Mike has slipped into the classroom, closing the door behind him.

"Bella," Alice says by way of explanation when I am within hearing range.

Oh shit, is Bella in that classroom? I pick up my pace.

Why is this fucking hallway so goddamn long?

I'm at the door first, pulling it open with force, Alice following closely behind me.

The scene before my eyes is beyond horrifying. Mike is on the ground with Bella. He's holding her in some sort of grip, pushing her head towards her chest and immobilizing her arms.

But there's no chance she will fight. I see immediately that she's completely unresponsive.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!

My eyes focus on Newton, that rat. "Michael! What the fuck!" In three big strides I'm with him, pulling him off her with way more force than is needed.

"I was helping her, you idiot!"

Helping her? _Helping_ her? He was fucking hurting her! "Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

The red that tinged my vision when I saw him on Bella like that, colors darker. My hands close around his upper arms, leaving bruises I'm sure. Mike fights back. He's not as tall as I am but he's more bulky and he uses his weight against me.

I hold my ground. If he doesn't stop soon I'm going to be _really_ angry. A tiny voice in the back of my mind begs me to please stay calm. Bella isn't going to react well to violence.

In my peripheral vision I see how Bella turns to her side, her back to us, as if in slow motion. She curls up into a fetal position and my chest cracks to see her like that.

Alice finally dares to walk around Mike's struggle with me and she simply lies down on the floor with Bella, trying to get her attention.

I jerk my head in Bella's form on the floor, never breaking eye contact with Mike. "Can't you see what you've done?" I hiss.

"She was panicking," Mike says indignantly, but I can see there is a tiny bit of fear in his eyes. Good.

To my left, Alice rears up so she leans on her hand. "Because of _you_!" she cries. "You _idiot_!"

She's so upset, oh my God. Her voice when she tries to get Bella's attention again pierces through my soul. It's been years since I've seen her distressed like that. My guts churn, sharing her pain over Bella. She's my twin, I feel what she feels. She's upset, because of the piece of shit that is currently trying to squirm his way out of my grip.

"Shit, what happened?" Emmett asks, stepping up to us immediately and helping me to keep Mike under control.

"_Mike_," I spit, which in my eyes is more than enough explanation.

Mike immediately starts to fight harder. The guy is stronger than I thought.

Emmett's gaze switches from Mike, to Bella's broken form on the floor, back to Mike. His eyes turn dark and his face hard in anger. "You made her panic like that? Shall I make _you_ panic like that?"

The threat is clear in his voice and I know he's willing to fulfill it. From the corner of my eye, I see Alice look up in alarm.

"No man, let go of me," Mike says, trying to sound annoyed, but it's hard since Emmett is obviously hurting him.

I'm not even wondering why I don't care if he's in pain or not.

"No," Emmett growls lowly. "You're not getting away with this. We've warned you away, Bella warned you away. This is assault, and you're going to pay."

"Whatever," Mike says, tilting his head back so he can look down on us. "I was helping her."

"Some help," I growl.

"Bella?" Oh Alice, my heart breaks to hear you so upset. And Bella. I don't dare to think how traumatized she's going to be after this. All the progress she's made, all for nothing.

My grip on Mike's arms tightens involuntarily and his gaze shifts to me in alarm.

Rosalie walks up to us, looking as if she's going to spit in Mike's face. "I called mom. She's on her way." As she speaks she sees the first students gathering at the door. She walks toward them, rising up to her full height. "Fuck off. There's nothing to see here. Yes, you heard me. _Leave_."

"Jasper," I say as he has made his way past the small crowd that has gathered, "can you go out and wait for mom?"

He nods and leaves, ushering the students out. The space they leave empty is filled by the Principal.

"Somebody kindly explained what happened here."

He regards the situation, looking at Emmett and me holding Mike, at Bella and Alice on the ground behind us. His eyes are tight. He's irritated.

"I didn't do anything," Mike says quickly, trying to struggle loose again.

"I want to hear the full story now," the Principal says, an edge of impatience lacing his voice.

"Hang in there, Bella," Alice says softly. "It'll be all right."

"I didn't do anything," Mike repeats.

"Oh, sake, like hell you didn't," Emmett says angrily.

"You weren't even there," Mike snaps over his shoulder at him.

"But I was," I remind him. "I saw you very clearly, holding Bella to the ground."

"Did you?" the Principal asks.

"I was helping her," Mike says. "She was panicking and I calmed her down."

"Interesting methods you use," I huff, but Principal Greene interrupts me.

"I'm talking to Newton, now."

I press my lips together to prevent a string of profanities from escaping my mouth.

In the building, the bell rings. Break over.

"How did you calm her down?" the Principal asks. "Edward, Emmett, let him go."

Reluctantly I release my grip on him, and Mike rolls his neck and shoulders before he replies.

"She was having a panic attack. When she turned violent, I immobilized her, so she could calm down."

I pivot back to face him. "_Violent_? Have you _seen_ her?"

"Calm down Edward or you will face the consequences." Mr. Greene's voice is calm, but I know he's serious.

I bite my tongue from retorting.

Mike shrugs. "I was giving her the opportunity to calm down without judging her. I was helping her."

My hand goes to my hair, tugging it hard. Rosalie puts her hand on the small of my back to calm me down. When I meet her eyes, they're as fiercely protective as how mine must look. _He__'__ll__get__his__due_, they tell me. _Keep__your__cool.__We__'__ll__deal__with__this_.

I close my eyes for a moment to gain composure again.

"Mike, what exactly did you do? Did you force her to the ground?" the Principal asks.

"What? No, but as soon as I touched her she went limp. We both fell down."

"And the getting limp part didn't ring a bell?" Emmett asks, unable to keep silent.

"I thought it was working," Mike mutters.

"Well, as far as it looks now, you assaulted a student," Mr. Greene sighs. "I never expected this of you. I shall have to call your parents and notify them."

Mike crosses his arms in frustration.

Does he really not realize that he was so completely in the wrong here?

Quick footsteps approach outside the room. "Oh my God," mom breathes as she appears in the doorway. "What happened?"

"Mike forced Bella to the ground when she had a panic attack. She shut down," Rosalie says quickly.

Mom shoots Mike a gaze that actually makes him cower a bit, but it's only a moment before all her attention is on Bella. I walk with her to the curled up body on the floor.

"I will be taking Mike to my office," Principal Greene announces. "Mrs. Cullen, I suggest you get Bella home safely and call me in the afternoon so that we can discuss this matter."

"Yes, I will," she agrees, barely looking at him before she kneels with Bella.

"Bella?"

No response. Behind us, Mr. Greene takes Mike away, out of the room.

"Bella? It's me, Bella?"

No response. Jesus, she's not even blinking. It's eerie. How scared she must have been, to be like this now.

Oh that _idiot_! I hope some truck skids on ice on the road and crushes him completely.

"You try it," Esme says suddenly.

"What? Why?"

She sighs impatiently. "Do it."

I kneel close to her, behind Alice, aching to reach out and pull her into my arms for some reason. I know better than to touch her though. It's not like one of the 'accidental' brushes against her hand. Alice is still lying on the floor in front of Bella. I bend over her a little to get closer.

"Bella? Bella, can you hear me? Can you give me any sign you can hear me?"

"She's not reacting, Edward," Alice says softly.

No, I thought as much.

"Bella, can you get up?"

I almost laugh at Alice's question. Of course she can't. This isn't the half-awake state of mind she sported when we started school.

"Can you lift her?" mom suddenly asks.

I look up at her in surprise. "I don't know. She's really not responding."

"I think she can hear us," Alice says softly. "Bella? Everybody is gone now. We're going to take you home, okay?"

Nothing.

I get up quietly and kneel again, this time behind her. I lean over her, wanting her to hear me, wanting her to know. I don't want to touch her, but we can't leave her lying here on the ground.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm going to lift you now. I'm sorry." My voice is tight with emotion. I hate that I have to be the one to do this to her. This is betraying her fragile trust as much as a Mike Newton holding her down to the ground.

The only thing I can do differently, I realize, is telling her exactly what I am going to do. I slide my arms under her shoulders and knees. "Don't be afraid, it's just me. Here we go, one, two…" On three I get up, taking her tiny frame up with me.

She still weighs nothing. I'd even wager she weighs less than the first time I carried her.

I lean back a little for balance and her head rolls, coming to rest against my shoulder. If I lift her a bit higher, her face would be hidden in the crook of my neck. Her chest tenses as I start walking, I can feel it. I swallow thickly, wanting to make it right for her somehow and completely unable to.

"I have you," I say softly, not knowing if she hears me at all. "I won't let you fall, Bella. We'll take you home now, okay? I'll bring you to the car."

At the door of the room, I have to stop. Her arm is dangling down and I can't get through the doorway without knocking some part of her against the doorframe.

"Her arm," I tell Alice, and she moves to help me, but Bella pulls her own arm in, in an uncoordinated gesture. Her hand comes to rest against my chest and that is when I know that she really is far away, because she would never touch me like that voluntarily.

Her fingers are cold. I can feel it through the fabric of my hoodie.

"See?" Alice says. "She's aware."

Not really, I think. At least not enough to be worried about the position of her hand.

As we step out into the deserted hallway, her hand clenches, fisting my sweater.

Oh Jesus. She must be so scared. I rack my brain, searching for words that can comfort her and saying something I didn't expect to hear myself say at all. "Hold on to me," I whisper quietly. "I won't let you down, Bella. I won't leave."

I walk her quickly to mom's car. She's parked it haphazardly right in front of the school entrance, a sign of her worry and her panic when she arrived. Alice opens the door for me and I place Bella in the back seat. Her head rolls away from me and grab the seatbelt, smelling the strawberry scent of her shampoo as I reach around her to click it shut.

I get in the front seat after thanking Alice. Esme tells my sister to go back to school, to class, and Alice is upset. "I want to come, I have to know if she's all right."

"I will be there. I will call your father too. And Edward will help me. More people would crowd her."

Alice frowns and nods, seeing the logic in mom's arguments, and with a final whispered, "bye, Bella," she slips inside the school building again.

Mom gets behind the wheel and with a final look over her shoulder takes off, asking me to dial dad's cell on her phone as soon as we turn onto the road. I do as I'm told and hand her the phone.

"Carlisle," she says as soon as he answers. I can only hear one side of the conversation.

"No, I'm okay. Something happened to Bella though. Some student seems to have forced her to the ground and she shut down completely. I have her in the car with me to go home."

Silence. I look over my shoulder to see how Bella is doing. It's like she's just far away in her thoughts, but not quite.

"Edward is with me," mom continues. "He can carry her with ease. Yes. Okay, I'll see you there." She disconnects and gives me her phone to put back in her purse. Then she glances at me. "Now, tell me exactly what happened."

I relay the story to her, just finishing as she pulls up in our garage. She's shaking her head as she gets out. "Some people," she mutters.

Getting out of the car as well, I open the back door and unclasp Bella's seatbelt. Pulling back a little, I ask the fruitless question if she can walk.

No reaction.

"I'm going to lift you again," I say. I can't very well leave her here until she comes out again, right? "I'm sorry, I know how much you hate this, but we have to get you out of the car, okay?"

She tenses visibly when I take her in my arms again, and I curse myself for having to do this to her.

I walk her up into the house, mom holding open the doors for me.

"Where do I take her?"

"Her room?" mom suggests.

Bella's hand, which has been resting against my chest again, suddenly clenches fiercely, gripping my sweater once more.

I look down at her, from her unmoving face to the fist that is closed to so tightly the knuckles have turned white. Obviously she is alarmed.

"Bella? Is that a yes or a no? Can you release your fist if you want to go to your room?"

Her fist clenches harder, something I thought impossible. I shake my head at my mom.

"The library," she suggests. "I'll get some extra pillows. She can lounge in the window seat?"

Bella's hand relaxes and I miss the feeling of her grip on my sweater for some reason. But it's apparent she likes the library better than her room. I wonder why.

I walk through the house with her in my arms. God, she weighs absolutely nothing. Mom brushes past me with pillows and blankets, making the comfortable windows seat that Bella likes to sit in, even more cozy.

For some reason, Bella tenses in my arms, hunching her shoulders a little as if she's trying to pull back. "Ssh," I whisper. I don't understand why she's suddenly so tense.

As gently as possible I lower her into the window seat, cradling the back of her head in my palm to prevent her banging her head against the windowsill. She gasps at my touch and I let go quickly, not wanting to be the cause of her discomfort.

When I step back, mom approaches her with a blanket and places it over her, whispering comforting words. Then she turns to me. "Edward, you have to go back to school, honey."

What? "No, mom. I don't want to leave her."

"I am here, and your dad is on his way home. You can easily go back for the last three lessons of the day."

I frown, knowing I can't fight her over this, and check my watch. "I have ten minutes before I have to go back. I'm staying here until then."

"That's okay. And thank you for helping. Thank you for stepping in."

I shake my head, my throat tight with emotion and disappointment. "I was too late. He was already on her when I came to find her."

Mom touches my arm. "You helped, Edward."

No, it's not true. "I should have noticed it sooner." I did notice she wasn't with us, didn't I? Why did I not go looking for her sooner? Why did I not warn Mike off sufficiently when I had the chance? I could have prevented this entire ordeal.

Mom looks kind. "You can't always be there for her."

"What if I hadn't seen her, mom?" I press. "Would she have come out at some point and never told us what had happened?"

We look at each other and even though it is not spoken, we know the answer.

_Yes_.

Mom hugs me fiercely and leaves the room to wait for dad. I stay with Bella, sitting in the rocking chair. She still is completely frozen, seemingly catatonic. But I know better now. She hears everything.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this today," I whisper, looking at my hands. "I feel like I failed you. Mike had no right to do what he did and I'm so worried that this will set back your progress. You were doing so wonderfully. Have you noticed it?

"I did. You talk more, and you engage more with all of us. We all admire you, you know. I know I do. I hope you will open up more some day. I'd… I'd like to get to know _you_."

Realizing that my monolog can be interpreted altogether incorrectly, I trail off.

"Anyway, Mike will get what he deserves. I hope you're not mad at me for carrying you. I meant no harm. I just wanted to help."

When I am done, the silence rings in the room. "I'm sorry," I whisper finally. "I'm so sorry."

She sighs softly, and I wonder if this is a sign that she has actually heard me. I don't think I will ever know.

"Honey, you have to go back to school."

"Yeah, I know."

I get up from the rocking chair and cast one last look at Bella. Even though I know it is for the wrong reasons, I have never seen her face so relaxed. For the first time, I get a glimpse of what her face will look like when it is void of the constant tension of fear.

"Take my car," mom interrupts my observations. "Yours is still at school."

"Yeah," I say again, distractedly. I force my gaze away from Bella and walk out of the library to go back to school.

I don't like mom's car. It accelerates too slowly and that doesn't fit my mood right now. Still I'm back at the school in no time, slipping into the last class before lunch. I don't hear a word the teacher says.

During lunch, I catch up with my siblings.

"How is she?" Alice asks the moment I am within hearing range.

"Still out. Mom is with her and dad should be home by now."

Emmett cracks his knuckles. He looks livid. "Mike has to pay," he says darkly.

"I agree. Castrate him with a spoon," Rosalie mutters under her breath.

Jasper hears and suppresses a smirk. "His parents took him home, though," he says. "We won't catch him at school before next Thursday I think."

"He works at his parents' store, right?" Rosalie asks. "We can go visit him there tomorrow."

"Would they let him work after what happened?" Alice asks doubtfully.

Emmett laughs darkly. "He's their only Saturday employee. I doubt they can do without him. They'll probably just won't pay him."

"What do you plan to do?" Jasper asks him.

"I don't know. Hurt him someplace where it doesn't show. He hurt Bella. That just doesn't compute."

I never expected him to be so fiercely protective over her.

"Okay, I'll hold him still," Jasper replies. "And then we can switch turns."

"You're not seriously considering going to beat the crap out of him, are you?" Alice asks, scowling.

"Why not?" Emmett counters. "He deserves it."

"He totally does," Alice agrees. "I'd love to park my stiletto in his crotch. But you know what? If we do this, we're no better than he."

Jasper opens his mouth to speak, but she stops him with a movement of her hand. "We'd be no better than the man who tried to strangle her."

Silence falls between us and even though we know it's not the same, she's right. Bella recoils from violence. We will break her trust if we become violent, too.

But what Mike did is unforgivable and unacceptable and anger flares. "She doesn't have to know," I say quietly. "But we don't have to hurt him. We can warn him off in a way that he will listen to."

"We can hurt him a tiny bit though," Emmett says. "Just to get the message home."

"Let's try a non-violence approach first though," Jasper says. "I think Alice has a valid point. If we want Bella to trust us, it won't help if she knows we're no different from Mike."

"Even if we put Mike in his place after he hurt her like that?"

"I don't think Bella thinks that way," Rosalie says softly, looking away. "I don't even think she blames him for what happened."

Again we fall silent. Before anyone of us can say anything, the bell rings and we have to move to class.

"Let's meet here during last break to discuss it further," Emmett proposes and we agree.

My legs feel like lead when I walk to Biology, knowing I will be there alone, knowing that Bella is at home, probably still not awake.

Mike's seat is empty and a lot of students look my way when I walk to the back of the class, sitting down at my side of the lab table.

What did Rosalie say? Bella probably doesn't blame Mike for what happened. How would she know? And more importantly, why would she think that? Would Bella really not be livid with Mike.

But then I remember what I told mom earlier. If we hadn't found Bella, we probably would never have known. She would have tried to deal with this by herself and we might never have known what had caused her stress.

And Mike would probably have continued what he was doing. This can't happen. I text Emmett.

_Let's go to the store tomorrow and corner him_

He replies quickly.

_Excellent plan. You still against violence?_

Actually, I'm not, but when I recall Bella's fearful eyes when I so much as clenched my fists in front of her when she'd just started school, I reconsider. I reply.

_Perhaps violence is not necessary._

I'm about to put my phone away, thinking this conversation is over, but it buzzes in my hand.

_I'll decide that for myself. I know you don't want Bella to see you angry, but I don't have to impress her._

What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I ask him as much, but he doesn't reply. I keep my phone in my hand for the rest of the class and the next one, but still he doesn't reply.

We gather in the parking lot again after school and I want to ask Emmett what he meant by his text, but his gaze tells me, clearly, that I shouldn't ask.

Instead, he speaks. "Edward proposed to go to the Newton store tomorrow and try to corner him."

"Good idea," Jasper says. "But if we all go, they'll be suspicious."

"Just the guys then," Alice says.

"Hell no, I want to be there," Rosalie huffs.

"Just the guys is better, Rosie," Emmett placates. "We're often there for hiking stuff. You've never even set foot in that place."

Rosalie folds her arms in front of her chest, but she's silent, which means she concedes.

"Okay, so tomorrow morning. The shop opens at nine," Jasper says. "I say we go early, so we can catch him alone."

"I say we go even earlier," Emmett says. "Catch him before he even sets foot inside that shop."

Alice shakes her head. "He told me once he hitches rides with his parents. He won't arrive alone. Especially not now, I should think."

"Okay, at nine then," I conclude. "And now if you will excuse me, I want to go home."

"Sure, go," Emmett says, and there's something in his voice I can't define. I want to ask him what his problem is, but I want to know how Bella is doing more, so I say goodbye to them all and walk to my mom's Ford, parked at the far end of the parking lot.

Yes, I think as I drive home. Tomorrow, Newton will pay for it.

I very nearly miss dad's Mercedes when I drive into the garage too fast. Cursing, I park mom's car and with three strides I'm at the door that leads into the hallway.

Without so much as stopping to get off my coat, I walk towards the library. Mom stops me in the parlor just as I walk past my piano, placing a hand on my arm.

I meet her gaze. "No?" I ask, disappointed.

She shakes her head. "She's really rattled, I think."

My shoulders sag. That stupid rat of a Newton. Perhaps I _should_ hurt him. She doesn't have to know.

"Take off your coat. I have some tea in the kitchen," mom says softly.

I look at the library door that has been left ajar. "I want to be with her," I say, and to my surprise my voice sounds pained.

Mom shakes her head. "She's best left alone now. Come on."

I let her take my coat off my shoulders and follow her to the kitchen, where I allow her to place a mug of tea in front of me on the table. In the garage, I hear Alice and Jasper come home in my car.

They join us at the kitchen table and we talk a bit about our day. We're all unsettled.

When I'm done burning my mouth on my tea in my haste to be closer to the library again, I stand in the parlor for a long moment, wondering if I should go into the library or not. Finally, I sit down on my piano stool.

Alice comes up to me and hugs me from behind. "Play something," she whispers. "Play something pretty."

I close my eyes and let the notes come to me, and I play one of my favorite songs. The song that I played the first time Bella heard me play.

Lost in the notes, I don't notice it immediately, but when the song comes to an end I look at the library door and there is Bella, looking at me and leaning against the doorframe.

As the last notes die down I smile at her, happy that she's back again, and she nods and smiles back, in an unmistakable gesture of thanks.

Our moment is broken when mom notices Bella is awake.

"Bella! Oh, I am so glad you're with us again." She ushers Bella to the kitchen and I am left alone again, still sitting at my piano.

I don't feel like playing anymore.

Later that night, just as I am about to go to my room to read for an hour or so before bed, I hear Bella coming down and shuffle into the kitchen.

When I reach her she's just pulling a carton of juice out of the fridge. I lean my forearms on the breakfast bar, trying to be unobtrusive but dying to know how she is.

Without so much as a glance she gets a second glass and fixes me a drink, too. I have to smile at her gesture. She's always so caring, so thoughtful.

We drink, until I am about to burst. "You okay?"

She nods, but I can see she's lying. I shift, anger flaring again when I think back to what I saw Mike do. "I don't even know what to say. I'm still upset over what happened."

A look of utter alarm appears on her face and her shoulders sag. She becomes a dear in headlights as she pleads with her gaze. She's afraid I'm upset with _her_. How could she ever think that? But she's obviously very worried right now and I speak quickly, hoping I am saying the right thing. "Not with you, silly! With Mike."

Her face relaxes from panicked to blank. She blinks, confused. I frown. "Why would I be upset with you?"

Why is she blushing now? She's such a mystery to me. I frown again when she refuses to meet my gaze. "I'm not, at any rate," I try to clarify. "How could I be?"

How could anyone ever be mad with Bella, I wonder.

"Edward," Jasper calls from the living room. I think he wants to discuss our game plan for tomorrow.

I look over my shoulder in the direction of his voice, then I turn back to Bella. "Duty calls," I try to joke. "Will you be okay?"

She nods, insecurely, and I leave her. As ever, I have infinitely more questions now than before I went to talk to her.

What I'd give to hear her speak. Or to have a look into her mind. That could work, too.

Emmett, Jasper and I agree to leave at 8.45 the next morning. Rosalie is still upset that she can't come, but Alice grins wickedly and tells her that as soon as Mike gets back to school again, she at least will wear her thinnest heals for a few days and test the durability of his toes.

We smile at that, but it's all laced with dark. Mike hurt one of our own.

He needs to know that he can't get away with that. At all.

I find that I'm nervous when I wake up the next day. I dress quickly and leave the house with Jasper and Emmett. We tell mom the truth — we're going to Newton's Outfitters.

We don't tell her _why_ we are going there.

The drive is short, and silent. We're all in grim moods. Emmett cracks his knuckles when I park in the deserted lot.

"We will have to do it quietly," Jasper says. "I don't want his parents to interfere."

"I bet you he squeals like a girl," Emmett mutters.

"Come on," I say. I want to get this over with.

Luck is on our side. We browse the aisles separately, as if we're actually here to buy gear. Mike is in a far corner unpacking new products, unseen by the rest of the store.

He straightens up when Emmett steps into view.

"Emmett," he says, his voice tight. "What can I do for you?"

"You hurt our sister yesterday," he says darkly, cocking his head a little. "I think it's time we let you feel what she felt then."

Mike takes a breath, probably to call out for his parents, but Jasper slips up to him from behind and closes a hand over his mouth. "Not a word," he warns, his lips close to Mike's ear. "We just want to talk to you."

"You see," Emmett continues, stepping into Mike's personal space, "you made Bella panic."

Mike struggles and I step closer, holding him still as Jasper gets Mike's arm and twists it behind his back. His eyes go wide in alarm, and Jasper pulls up Mike's arm a bit higher.

"How does it feel?" I ask, my voice low as my anger boils. "To be held against your will? To not be able to tell us that it's hurting, that you want to be let go?"

Jasper tightens his grip and Mike inhales sharply through his nose, alarmed, afraid.

"It's not a good feeling, is it?" I ask needlessly.

Emmett brings his hand up to Mike's hair and grips it, tilting his head back. "I wanted to beat you to a pulp," he says seriously, honestly. "But I was told that it would make me no better than you. So I decided against it. I have my standards, you know."

"However," I add, "if you ever pull such a stunt again, I think I can safely speak for my brothers that we _won__'__t_ turn the other cheek."

"Is that clear?" Jasper asks.

Mike nods, fear clear in his eyes, and we let him go.

Emmett removes his hand from Mike's hair and looks disgusted at the product that is now clinging to his fingers. He wipes his hand on Mike's crisp white shirt, staining it.

Mike is shaking, clearly sufficiently impressed. He rubs the arm that has been twisted behind his back.

"The next time I find a reason to do that to you, I might break it," Jasper says casually. "I'm not really aware of my own strength all the time."

Mike nods numbly.

"Now, I believe that Bella has deserved a sincere apology. Think you can manage that when you get back to school?"

Mike nods again, a little less convinced this time.

"We'll see to that," Emmett announces. "So you better make haste because I'm not a very patient man."

At the other end of the store, customers enter.

I make eye contact with my brothers and we agree silently — time to go.

As we walk out of the store, I notice how I have started shaking. All the pent up anger of the last 24 hours is finally coming out. Jasper comes up behind me and places a hand on my shoulder.

"He'll stay away now," he says confidently. "I think we warned him sufficiently."

"I'm just so worried about Bella. What if this sets her back?"

Emmett ducks a little to meet my gaze. "You know her best of all of us. And I think that deep down you know that she will survive this. I'll bet my right arm that she has been through worse."

"True," Jasper murmurs. "And I'm willing to wager that back then, there was nobody there to stand up for her."

As I listen to his words, I realize that Jasper is right. I also realize in that moment that I want to fight for Bella. Because if anyone is worth fighting for, it is her.


	3. Emmett

**A/N I don't own Twilight**

_Thanks, as ever, to my team: Sherry,Deb, Bob and Aleea._

_This takes place during chapter 47 of Torn. It's a sliver from Emmett's point of view, and it contains Rosalie's back story. Something a lot of you have been waiting for :) And yes, this will come back in the main story as well. I just don't know when yet. _**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Emmett<strong>

Sometimes I wish with all my heart that life could be simple. But, it's not, so the only thing I can do, is make it as simple as I possibly can. I don't see the world in black and white, mind you, but I don't see trouble when there is none, either.

People sometimes think that I'm not as smart, simply because I don't think too much about things. This is not true. But why worry about things you can't change in the first place? It makes me much happier to focus on what's right in front of me.

Especially when that's my Rosie.

Because damn, she's a fine sight indeed.

And I get to look at her as much as I want, because she's mine and I'm the only one who is allowed to ogle her, she says.

Only I don't ogle.

I admire.

She's so beautiful.

And she's talking to Bella right now in Bella's room, which means I probably shouldn't disturb them. I don't want to startle Bella, but even more I don't want to risk displeasing Rose. She'll have my balls on a platter.

So I wait. I mess around on YouTube for a bit to kill the time, and finally turn on my TV, landing on some movie with Jean Claude van Damme. If that guy isn't on steroids, I'm lost. I mean, I'm buff, but it's all natural. With him, it's just scary.

While I watch, my thoughts drift back to the time I spent with Bella with morning. I've never really had any alone time with her before. When she tutored me for Trig, there was always someone else present. It feels really weird to have someone being afraid of you. Especially when you _know_ there is no reason for that, at all. But, instead of trying to reassure her that she really didn't need to worry, which wouldn't have worked, I sat downstairs with her so that we wouldn't be alone. Easy solution to a problem that can't be easily fixed. If ever.

Being with Bella this morning really made me see her in a different way, though. When she taught me Trig, I'd known she was smart and patient, but when she told me what she would like to do for her Gym assignment, I was simply blown away. She's very insightful and, what's the word for it, ambitious? Not to be better than anyone else, but to achieve the best possible thing within the context of what she's doing.

Oh man, that's awfully insightful of me.

I focus back on the movie. But I'm not done thinking apparently, because I can't help but think back to the trip I had with dad to go see the Seahawks last weekend. What a blast. I've a shitload of autographs from the players and I met some of the coaches, too. Now, I'm not good at reading people, but I think I made a good impression.

It would be _so_ awesome to become a professional player. Any day now, possible letters of acceptance will start to come in. Washington maybe, or UCLA. I don't need a scholarship, but it would make me a happy man if I could get one and play on the school team. I mean, mom and dad can pay for everything, easily, but obtaining a scholarship would be something I'd achieved by myself.

I'll just have to work out with Rosie what she wants. There is no way in hell I am going to be too far away from her when we go to college. I hope we can work something out, but I'm confident we will. She won't want to be too far away from me, either.

The movie is halfway through when she knocks on my door. Without waiting for an answer, she slips inside and locks the door behind her.

"I thought I'd sleep with you tonight."

I smile brightly at her. "I approve of that plan."

Patting the couch next to where I'm sitting, she swiftly comes and curls up next to me. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close, kissing the top of her head. I can sense that she wants to be quiet tonight.

Her behavior around others and around me differs like day from night. It took years for her to let her mask slip off when she was alone with me. I think she's even more beautiful then, but she won't hear of it and I've learned not to press.

"What on earth are you watching?" Her appalled tone breaks the silence, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Just some movie," I say with a chuckle. "I was just thinking that Van Damme has to be on steroids."

She rubs my bicep and practically purrs when she speaks. "Unlike you, though."

"Want to see if I'm still strong enough for you?" I ask playfully, realizing a beat too late that I already knew she'd want a quiet night. "By giving you a massage, perhaps?" I amend, but it's a lame excuse.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I'm not really in a mood, tonight."

"I know. I'm sorry." Shifting on the couch, I lean in to kiss her. She lifts her head so I can reach her perfect, soft lips. I cup her face with one hand, moving the other to wind through the hair at the back of her skull.

"Love you," I whisper. Her hands come up to my shoulders as she whispers the words back to me.

Our kisses are slow and reverent. When she pulls back, there is a light in her eyes that makes me smile. But my smile disappears when I see her eyes go dull and worried again. I pull her tightly against me, cradling her in my arms.

"What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

"Rosie," I press.

"Fine. Nothing I want to talk about."

"Are you sure?" I ask.

She nods against my shoulder. "Yes. Let's watch some more TV."

We watch the Van Damme movie through the end, but we're both not paying attention. I worry about her, and Rosie is worrying about something she doesn't want to tell me. Tightening my arms around her, I let her know I'm here.

Yeah, I like to regard things as easily as possible. If Rosie is worrying and doesn't want to talk, all I can do is hold her. It's no use trying to figure out what's on her mind. She won't tell if she doesn't want to. And she's so much smarter than me anyway, I'll never come close to her intelligence.

She disagrees.

"Do you want to go and do something fun tomorrow?" I ask, trying to distract her.

She shrugs. "I don't know. I'm just tired."

Silence again. The movie is over and I pick up the remote to switch channels.

"Oh, stop there," Rosalie says suddenly. "I want to see that."

"Toddlers and Tiaras?" I ask with a groan. "Rosie…"

"Not because I like to see those children dressed up. It just mesmerizes me how parents can do such a thing."

And so we watch this documentary, baffled at the display.

"Do you want kids?" I ask her suddenly. We've never really talked about this before.

She pulls back to look at me, her eyes wide and expectant. "Yes, I'd love to. Do you?"

I know the answer as soon as she has asked me the question. "Only with you," I reply with a smile.

She's happy, for the first time tonight, and she all but attacks me, kissing my mouth with a passion that I have come to expect. She straddles my lap with ease, the documentary forgotten as my hands disappear under her shirt.

She's tall for a woman, but she'll always be tiny to me. Her skin is blazing hot against my fingertips, and smooth as silk. Wrapping my arms around her, I take her with me as I get up and carry her to the bed. My mouth never leaves hers as I lower her unto the comforter.

Her hands are in my short hair, gripping so hard it's almost painful, but still not enough. Clothes disappear gradually and I kiss every inch of new skin exposed, telling her how utterly beautiful she is time and time again.

She is the most beautiful, but she gets insecure sometimes. Which I don't understand but hey, it fits my philosophy much better to simply reassure her on a daily basis, than try and understand why she doesn't see herself clearly. At least, it's not as hard.

Hehe, hard.

I digress.

My kisses find her lips, her jaw, and that soft spot under her ear that makes her hold on to me tighter. It will never cease to amaze me how she allows me to love her, and how she loves me back. She accommodates me when I slide in between her thighs with an exhale, and not for the first time do I have the feeling of coming home.

"Let's practice for those babies," I whisper in her ear. When I press forward, she moans softly and clutches my back. The look of pure ecstasy on her face when I enter her alone could be enough for me to fall into the abyss.

After, we lie with out legs tangled and the sheets around us in some way. I couldn't care less. As it is, I'm trying very hard to not fall asleep. I would love to, but that will upset Rosie, and trying to stay awake is easier than placating an upset Rosalie. Hence — you get the idea.

"Are you ready yet to talk about it?" I blink a few times to get my eyes to focus again. I have to stay awake.

"No, it's all right," she says, her voice sounding as sleepy as mine. "Let's just go to sleep. I love you."

I kiss her forehead before she tucks her head into the crook of my neck. "Love you."

We don't talk about what is worrying her the next day, either. It seems she's not the only one with something on her mind. I see Edward and he's brooding again, as well, as usual. But something happened between him and Bella. I see them both looking at each other, but they don't spend any time together anymore.

What I don't understand however, is that they both seem to be sad about it. It's not logical. I nudge him when he's on his way to the library.

"What happened between you and Bella?"

He sighs and looks down with a frown.

"Got that question before, huh," I say with compassion.

There goes his hand to his hair. Honestly, it's a miracle he isn't bald yet.

"She needs some space," he says after a moment of thought. "I just hope she'll come back to me, but right now she wants me to leave her alone."

I raise my brows in question, and when he meets my eyes I can see that he is truly lost.

"Maybe she'll come back?" I ask him.

"I hope so. But, nothing I can do."

"But wait," I add for him.

"But wait," he repeats. "I will wait."

I punch his shoulder good-naturedly. "Of course you will."

Jasper calls me to play a game with him and Edward smiles sadly at me before he slips into the library. I swear to God he wears the weight of this world on his shoulders. All the worrying I refuse to do, he seems to do on top of his own. It's a miracle his back is still so straight.

Oh, well. There's nothing I can change about it, now can I?

What I do worry about though, is that Rosalie still hasn't told me what is bothering her. She tries to hide it, but I can see the shadows behind her eyes. I need her to talk to me, let it out of her system, before she closes up again and becomes distant. I won't let that happen.

I go into her room on Monday night. She's at her vanity, looking at her reflection. Stepping up behind her, I lay my hands on her shoulders, massaging her gently. She closes her eyes for a moment in bliss before she opens them again and meets my gaze through the mirror.

"Edward asked me to drive Bella to therapy in Port Angeles tomorrow," she says.

I simply nod for her to continue, knowing that she will elaborate when she is ready.

"I've looked up the address. It's right around the corner where… where it happened."

Her eyes are fearful. And I suddenly realize what has been bothering her lately. Her memories.

"What did you say?" I ask.

"I said yes. What else could I have said? He doesn't know."

Stepping around her, I kneel at her side. She turns in her chair and looks down at me, leaning her face into my touch when my hand comes up to cup her cheek.

Edward doesn't know. Nobody knows but her and me. And the fuckers who harassed her in Port Angeles two years ago.

I had been sick. Too sick to go to this party we were both invited to. So she went alone, in a silver dress that hugged her body perfectly. She was sixteen and already sinfully beautiful.

Her car was parked in an underground garage, two blocks from where the party was. When she walked back to her car later that night, some guys approached her. They were drunk.

They drove her into a corner, groping her and fondling her underneath her dress. When one of them tried to kiss her, she kneed him in his balls. The guy reacted by slamming her head against the brick wall behind her.

She screamed for help. One guy further down the street heard her, turned to see what was going on, and walked away. Rosalie fought harder and finally the men got enough of her, leaving her a sobbing mess in the dirty alley they had taken her to.

My heart broke when I heard her voice, tiny and broken, over the phone. I was frantic, wrecked by helplessness. I was on cough syrup and in no state to drive and go get her, and she begged me not to tell mom and dad. She'd gone out, alone, in a dress that dad had told her was too sexy.

She told me this was all her fault.

I wanted to kill those guys that touched her without her permission. Slowly.

Make them eat their own balls before I tore out their guts with their own hands.

Maybe it was a good thing I couldn't go out.

I wouldn't be coming home anytime soon if I got arrested for manslaughter.

I kept her on the phone as she drove home. Kept her talking. Made her tell me what exactly had happened. Those rats had 'just' touched her. She wasn't raped, thank fuck.

She had started to slur by the time she reached Forks. When I went to the garage to meet her, I saw why. The shock nearly paralyzed me and I felt my insides contract painfully when I saw her head. She was bleeding.

How she ever made it home, I don't understand till this day.

She begged me to not call for dad. So I took her to my room and washed the wound on the back of her head. Luckily, it didn't need stitches. Her hair would hide the wound. The other bruises she would be able to hide with her clothes.

I sat up all night, drowsiness caused by the cough syrup be damned. I watched over her as she slept, dreaming fitfully time and time again, waking up screaming if I wasn't in time to wake her myself before it got too bad. I lulled her back to sleep as well as I could, and when I was sure she was under again, I cried.

She had been hurt, and she thought it was her fault. Of course it wasn't. How could it ever be? My sweet Rosalie…

Those men deserved to die and if I ever saw them, I would kill them myself.

She never went to the police.

She never told mom and dad. Or anyone else.

She was too ashamed. However much I pleaded with her, she wouldn't hear of it. I had thought of telling our parents, but I found I couldn't. I wouldn't betray my girl like that. It had to be her decision. And so it became our secret.

It took us months to get back again to where we were before she was attacked. And it never got exactly the same anymore.

Imagine her shock when she put two and two together with Bella. I didn't know, but I hadn't put too much thought into it, either. I mean, why think more on something you can't fix? Right.

But I saw how Rosalie observed Bella. After Bella had been with us for about two months, Rosalie talked to me as we lay together in my bed.

"I think she was raped."

"What? Who?" I asked. I didn't have a clue what she was talking about.

"Bella," Rosalie replied. She was looking at the ceiling with wide, unseeing eyes.

"How do you know? I thought it were only beatings?"

She shook her head. "I can tell. She's so skittish around men. Much like I was after… after Port Angeles. And that wasn't even a tenth of what she must have been through."

It was still so hard for her to talk about it. I didn't reply, because I had nothing to say.

"I understand her fear, though. I can't even imagine what it must have been like for her."

Over the next months, it seemed that Rosie was right. She developed a peculiar, but strong bond with Bella, and I still see it getting stronger every day. Rosalie's clear bluntness sometimes helps Bella to overcome her fears and do things she would otherwise not have done.

But now Rosalie has to take Bella to therapy tomorrow, which means she is going to be very close to the place where she was attacked. I can understand why she's not looking forward to it.

Briefly I consider coming along, but it would raise questions for sure, since I would have to skip training. And after the scene I made when I failed Trig and would have to give up that training, I don't think that's a good idea.

"I'll go inside with her, sit in the waiting room," Rosalie says. "That wouldn't be weird, right? It's too cold to wait out in the car."

"Sure, you can do that," I reply, trying to sound encouraging. "Maybe it's nice for Bella as well, to have you there. I think she knows that you 'get' her, you know?"

Rosie nods thoughtfully, her eyes becoming unfocused for a moment. "I hope she does. It's good to see her become better. Although I hate to see how therapy wracks her every time."

Again, I say nothing. What do I know?

"I wish I could do more to help her."

"Why don't you tell her what happened to you?" I offer carefully. "Maybe you can help each other out like that?" I'm no doctor, but I think that maybe if you share something like this, it becomes easier to bear.

"I haven't even told mom and dad yet," she snaps, her tone suddenly sharp. "Fine example I'd make."

I shift to face her more fully. "But you can tell mom and dad. They would understand, I know they would. Like they do with Bella."

She closes her eyes for a moment in frustration. "I'm not like Bella, Emmett. Bella's situation is different. She really didn't have a choice. There was no way out. I could have cared to listen to mom and dad and not go out in that dress. Contrary to Bella's case, this _is_ my fault."

I can tell her a thousand times that it isn't, but she won't listen. And I'm not a therapist, so I don't know what else to say.


	4. Emmett's joke

**A/N Twilight is not mine**

Torn, chapter 68:_**  
><strong>__"He hesitates for the longest time, and I can't move. I'm not sure if I'm ready, and I'm not even sure if that means I should tell him to wait or push through it._

_I don't know._

_At that moment, Edward's phone chirps, signaling an incoming text message. He doesn't look, but the spell is broken, giving me the strength to place my hands over his and step away from him."_

Wanna know who texted?

* * *

><p><strong>Emmett's joke<strong>

_Prom - the after party. _  
><em>The diner in Forks.<em>

"I think I'll send them a text."

"Emmett, you are not doing that," Rosalie hisses in a whisper. The fact she makes herself audible over the music bears testament of how sharp said whisper is.

"Oh, but I am," I reply easily. "Come on, Rose, it's funny and you know it."

She jumps up again, trying in vain to reach the cell phone that I am holding out of her reach.

I won't be getting any tonight, but hell, it's going to be worth it.

"Emmett," Rosalie pleads. "You'll offend him."

This takes me off guard a little. "Since when do you care about offending Edward?" Besides, she doesn't even know what I want to send.

"Because," she spits, clearly not willing to elaborate. "Just don't do it."

"Who knows what you will interrupt," Jasper says, a snicker in his voice.

Alice, not amused, slaps the back of his head. "Why not have them let their night?" she says, frowning at me. "Why meddle?"

I frown right back at her. "Knowing them, they're standing side by side, awkward as fuck, afraid to even look at each other. I won't be interrupting anything. And I'm not meddling."

Three pairs of eyes glare at me.

I shake my head. "I shouldn't even have told you. You have no sense of humor." Still convinced of my own hilarity, I press 'send message' before they can stop me.

Right at that moment, Lauren waltzes up to us, clearly a bit tipsy from the cough-not-so-alcohol-free-cough punch.

"Where's Edward?" she drawls. She's swaying a little. If I didn't hate her guts so much, I'd pity her.

"Not here," Rosalie says icily.

God, I love her.

"Too bad. I would have been real nice to him tonight," she purrs, oblivious to the sudden drop of temperature in the room.

"Please bore someone else with your filth," Rosie says, waving her away.

"He's with Bella," Lauren's friend, whatsherface, says, giggling. "Playing checkers or something."

They both squeal, and Jasper's fists clench as my vision tinges red. Rosalie places her hand in my arm to keep me in check. I mean, I know I just made fun of them, too, but that's different, you know?

When they are gone again, I look back at my phone.

"What did you send, anyway?" Alice asks. She pries the phone from my hand with deft fingers and looks at the screen. A moment later, she slaps her hand against her mouth and bursts out in giggles. "You're horrible!" she exclaims.

Jasper looks too, and he smiles as well. "Maybe he'll reply," he says with a smirk as he hands the phone to Rose. "Maybe he'll say 'yes.'"

"That would be something," Alice says, but from the corner of my eye, I see Rosie shaking her head, a sad look in her eyes.

"Maybe," she says, her voice almost drowned out by the music. "But I doubt it."

My funny text is suddenly not so funny anymore, but I can't take it back. Knowing my brother though, he will most likely have his phone on silent on a night like this. He will be wholeheartedly and completely focused on Bella.

I look at my screen, and press the button so the words light up once again.

_Hey, bro, have you kissed her yet?_


End file.
